


No One Left

by PiperSong



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 5.10 spoilers?, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:02:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4143924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiperSong/pseuds/PiperSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne had something to do today, but this took precedence.  She tells herself it's justice.</p>
<p>ModAU take on 5.10, sorta-ish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Left

**Author's Note:**

> You know when you're in a crap mood, but you don't really have a reason? And then you find the reason and momentarily feel satisfied but not, because oh wait there's actually something wrong... Well, yea, that was me when I was writing this, so it's a bit...odd? And crap? :P
> 
> Probably doesn't help that I haven't actually watched the show and just see snippets that seem to deviate further and further from what I thought was happening.

The Red Woman Melisandre was gone they said, packed up her things and left without a word.

_Did you hear?  The Red Woman has left him, just upped and left, he didn’t see it comin’._

_What did she even see in him anyways?  He’s just a balding grumpy cat._

_Thought he left her, you know, after all the things she was saying about his daughter._

_I heard she lit a bonfire in his office and burnt all his stuff before disappearing over the weekend._

_Well she was crazy about that fire god, freakin’ pyromaniacs the lot of them…_

_Hey!  Frank’s a follower of R’hollor, show some respect._

_Oh, sorry Frank, I shouldn’t have said that, it was very disrespectful, I just-_

_It’s cool Wal, R’hollor is a fire god after all.  Some followers just have a more literal interpretation…_

 His wife had left too, Selyse had had enough of her husband and his gang warfare, she took their daughter Shireen. 

_Boss’s wife has gone._

_No?!_

_And she’s taken the daughter._

_Seven hells…_

_Yup, found out about the affair, didn’t trust him with the daughter, didn’t leave a forwarding address._

_She must’ve known for longer, it was so obvious._

_I heard she’s left the country and told him not to bother trying to find her._

_No wonder he’s been so moody lately…_

_You mean he actually has different moods?_

_Yea, sullen and grumpy and sullen and grumpier._

_It’s not grumpiness though, it’s something else, you know?_

_I thought he was just lonely cause Davos had to deal with some mess out of town._

_That’s enough to make anyone moody._

_Nawww, do you have a little man-crush on Davos too, Benny?_

_Ha. Bloody.  Ha.  You know exactly what I meant._

Brienne walks up the footpath to the lonely looking house at the end of the road.  She had something else to do today and yea, it was kinda important, but this, this she told herself took precedence.  She’s wearing gloves and the gun’s in a plastic bag anyhow, it’s sort of awkwardly tucked under her jacket and probably all too obvious to anyone who’s looking, but there’s no one about, no one to stop her.

She knocks on the door ignoring the doorbell just to the side, it takes a while before the door opens and she resists the urge to shuffle her feet, because like _hell_ she admit that she’s actually nervous about the whole plan.  He opens it a crack, sees her and slams it shut only to swing it open again, she makes to speak and shout at him in indignation because despite it all one should still have manners and not slam doors in a lady’s face.  But he grunts before she speaks and gives the chain a flick to explain himself. 

She hates his face on principal, but this time he really does look like shit.

And he reeks of liquor.

“I’m Brienne Tarth, I’m-“

“I know who you are” his eyes flick to the plastic bag she’s poorly concealed “and I know why you’re here”.

His voice sounds like gravel, but not in a sexy way.

He turns and leaves her standing on the doorstep, muttering something about ‘four women of the apocalypse’ , but she’s not sure and she doesn’t care really, he’s left the corridor by the time Brienne decides to follow him inside.  She closes the door behind her.

 

It’s dark and gloomy, but the kitchen is much brighter, whiteness and open plan, floor to ceiling windows let the light in from the backyard, it’s not the house she expected.  She moves in further and sees the fireplace, there are scorch marks across the floor and the entire wall on that side, it’s an ugly sight, but it fits with what she expects, it makes this easier. 

 

There’s a smashing sound behind her, she whips round drawing the gun, but it’s just Stannis in the kitchen muttering and swearing under his breath.  He’s drunk, she can see the way he ambles to the dining table despite the perfect posture that must be innate.  He pours two glasses from the half empty whiskey bottle and proffers one to her, ignoring the gun she hasn’t quite lowered.

“No, I don’t drink.  But thank-you” she adds, because her father had always taught her that good manners cost nothing.

Stannis merely shrugs in reply and downs the shot himself in one gulp. 

 

“I thought you didn’t drink either?”  The question comes unbidden, she’s not quite sure why she’s asked it, it’s not as though the answer will change anything.

“I don’t.” replies Stannis with what might be humour in his voice.

There’s a pause and then he looks up at her and barks the harshest laugh Brienne’s ever heard, it’s a near thing that one of the pristine windows hasn’t just been hit by a bullet.  It’s an awful noise, the laugh of a dead man, second only to choking breaths of a man dying.

 

He doesn’t look at her once he’s caught his breath, he stares intently off to the side and down at the drink in his hands as though the answer might be hidden there.  But then he does, he looks directly at her and she hates it.  Hates the way his eyes look through her, they’re dead, defeated and resigned, but she hates them most because of the way they remind her of Renly’s.

“Go on then.”

He’s prompting her, it’s unsettling and not really helping at all.

Brienne takes a breath, adjusts her feet and straightens her posture and focuses on what it was that brought her here, it’s justice she tells herself, she is merely delivering him the fate he deserves.

“I am Brienne Tarth, I was present when your brother was murdered, murdered by your word, if not by your hand.”

“Aye, I did.”    His voice is flat with no emotion.

“Then in the name of Renly Baratheon, you know the justice I seek.”

Stannis rolls his eyes at the word justice, he is so done with that word and its hollow promises.

As she lifts the gun and aims it her mind turns to every western and action movie she’s ever watched, they always ask for any last words.

“Any final words?”  The gun is pointed directly at him, but he stares down the barrel with a face that no longer cares.

“Do your duty.”

And he says it as though he’s known all along.

 

It doesn’t make it easier.

But there’s nobody to stop her.

There’s no one left.


End file.
